Wilted Roses
by Break the Floors
Summary: Dean and Cas are together, a few years after the peek of the apocalypse. Married and new parents of a feisty sixteen year old girl. Terra. She's hardheaded like Dean, intelligent and innocent like Cas. That is, of course, until she gets involved with Seth Oak. Troubles suddenly start up when every time she goes outside, she sees 1 of 2 men. Men she didn't like. The Dark Princes.
1. Chapter 1

_(Dean's POV)_

I sat beside Castiel in the adoption home, one of my knees bouncing, both my hands locked together. Cas and I had been together for about six years. The first three years had been in secret, and it came to the open when Cas accidentally spilled about it. I didn't mind, though. It was better now that Sam and Bobby knew about it. Sam was a bit awkward about it at first, and it took a while for Bobby to finally accept it. We started to date about five months after the apocalypse came down from its' climax to where demons were walking everywhere. Now they were doing what they used to do: hide, sneak around, and cause a little bit of trouble. The usual.

Today had been quiet, so me and Cas had decided to go out for a bite. He brought up the idea of a kid. I had tried to explain we couldn't have a kid due to the fact neither of us were chicks, but he pointed out the orphanage home not too far away. I had went because it made him light up with excitement. I didn't want a kid all that much, to be honest. I didn't want him/her to grow up like I had. I didn't want to hurt them. They wouldn't be very happy on the road all the time, trying to figure out the world that they were about to be shoved into.

"Dean, are you okay?" Cas leaned over and whispered in my ear with concern.

"What?" I blinked, looking up into his bright sapphire eyes. "Oh, yeah. Just thinking."

"About?" he pressed curiously.

"About how this kid is going to be raised," I sighed, running a hand over my face. "On the road all the time, having to run when whatever case we're on backfires, trying to learn who to trust and not trust. I'm scared the poor thing's going to be completely and utterly miserable."

"It'll be fine," Cas assured me, leaning over and kissing my cheek.

"Okay," I sighed, sitting up straight before slouching a little like I normally did. "I'll believe you."

"Good," Cas smiled.

The woman opened up the door to her office, smiled at Cas and I, then motioned us. We both stood up, and hurried towards the woman. She was about thirty three, her auburn hair pulled back into a bun on the nape of her neck, blue eyes decorated with green makeup, her business suit the shade of a pine tree's leaves. Cas and I took our seats in front of the desk, the woman sitting gracefully in her own seat. She started to type on her computer, her eyes flickering over to me every once in a while.

"So, Mr. Winchester, correct?" she glanced at me.

"Yes, mam," I nodded, swallowing a little nervously.

"I see your file is crisp clear. No jail time, no warrants, nothing. I'm shocked. It's amazing," she smiled, laughing and shaking her head. "Now. Mr. Winchester?"

Cas hesitated, so I lightly tapped his elbow. "Yes?" he finally perked up, getting my tap.

"You're from Cali, yes?" she stared at the screen for a minute.

"Yes," he answered.

"Okay," she ran her fingers over the keyboard again. "But it seems like there's nothing about you. Like you weren't born on the Earth."

"I lived in the country and was homeschooled," he fibbed.

"Well, you're a very intelligent man according to your college records," she smiled, moving over a little while going through a couple files. "Now that I've done background checks, I think it's time we press on. I am right that you both want a child that looks similar to you?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Understandable," she tilted her head. "I have four possible kids that I personally think you both will enjoy. Would you like to talk to them one at a time?"

"Please," smiled Cas. "I think it would be best so we can get to know them."

"Of course," she nodded. "Here's the first child. I'll go grab him."

I took the file she offered me, allowing her to race out with her office heels clacking loud on the tile floor. I leaned over so Cas could see the file as well. The kid's name was Jordan, he looked more like Cas but his eyes were dark brown, and it said his parents were druggies and he was taken away by CPS. The door opened up again, and both Cas and I turned to see the lady and Jordan walking in. Jordan looked a little uncomfortable when he noticed that no other female than the lady who ran the orphanage was in the room. I saw Jordan go sheet white before falling back. I jumped to my feet, Cas also moving to go catch him, but the woman took the hit. She gasped, clearly confused. I quickly went through his file and found the issue, pointing it out to the lady and Cas.

"Homophobic," I explained. "Said he's so disturbed that consciousness often fails."

"I'm so sorry, Mr. and Mr. Winchester," quickly apologized the lady, picking up the kid clumsily and carrying him out.

We both sat down, me sighing while Cas just ran his hand through his hair. We sat like that for a minute, until there was a scream from outside. Once again, we bounced up from our chairs to see a small girl burst through the door. She was small, maybe four, with big green eyes, long black hair that was tangled in big curls, fair white with a few freckles on her nose. She looked terrified. She saw us, and immediately ran straight into me. She hugged me around my thighs with fear. I noticed then that she was crying from the sudden dampness in my jeans. I stood there in shock, staring at Cas, then looking up as two men came in the door. One was dressed in a white coat, a syringe in his hand. The other was dressed as security.

"Forgive us, sir's," the doctor apologized. "It's flu season. We're trying to give her the flu shot, and she's refusing."

"It's alright," I assured them, bending down slowly. She let go of my legs, staring up at me with big green eyes. I smiled, moving back a curl from her face. "What's the matter, Sunflower?"

She shuffled her feet for a second, glancing at the serum in the doctor's hand.

"Scare of the needle?" I whispered to her gently.

She turned back to me and nodded. I smiled, rubbing her shoulder.

"Tell you what: Let's do this together, okay?" I offered.

She stared at me for a moment longer in confusion. Much like Cas did. I noticed that; they were both totally innocent. I smiled at the thought.

"You want to sit in my lap?" I took her small hands in mine, slowly sitting down on the chair I had jumped up from.

She nodded, and I picked her up and sat her on my legs.

"Okay. Look at me," I ordered her softly, the doctor slowly coming up to us. "My name's Dean. What's yours?"

"I go by Terra," she answered, twiddling her fingers. Her voice was light and squeaky. Like a real kid's.

"It's nice to meet you, Terra," I didn't look up at the doctor while he moved closer to her, the syringe ready. "This is my boyfriend, Cas."

"Hi, Cas," she smiled respectfully, looking up at the ex-angel finally.

"Hello, Terra," he smiled back.

"We're here to adopt someone," I kept distracting her, the doctor only inches from puncturing her.

"Really?" she stared at me with big, bright green-brown eyes. "Who are you going to adopt?"

"We don't know yet," I answered. "But I'll tell you this much: I like you the most."

"Are you serious?" she was humming with excitement.

"Don't scream and it'll seal the deal," I hugged her tight while the doctor stuck her arm.

She sucked in deep, biting down on my shoulder. She bit hard, too. I laughed while the doctor finally pulled away. I released her from my stone grip, and she was sheet white.

"You tricked me!" she accused with her high pitch voice.

"I know," I smiled, chuckling slightly. "But you don't want to become sick, do you?"

"No," she muttered, twiddling her fingers again.

"And I didn't hurt you, did I?" I tilted my head.

"No," she admitted. "But that medicine was cold!"

I laughed aloud, shaking my head and rubbing her arm with my thumb. "It's going to be cold."

"I hate needles," she pouted, watching the two men walk out, leaving her alone with me and Cas.

"They're not my favorite either," I assured her.

She turned back to me, her eyes big. "So I'm your favorite?" she asked me.

"Absolutely," I chuckled. "You're a little fighter, aren't you?"

"I suppose," she shrugged, looking down.

"I think you're working your way to the top," I tucked her hair behind her ear.

"I don't know about that," she played with her thumbs.

"What's wrong?" I asked her softly.

"Can you keep a secret?" she moved her gaze from me to Cas.

Cas sat down and moved his chair closer to mine.

"Of course we can, Terra," he promised the girl.

"I never said anything because he said if I did it wouldn't be pretty," she hunched her shoulders, her eyes down on her hands. We listened keenly. "But Riley, the boy with blonde hair, he likes to hit me. He bullies me a lot. Tells me I won't ever get adopted. That I'm too ugly and dumb to be loved. My birth parents, they liked to starve me and hit me too. One time my father locked me in the backyard when I was three while it was winter and storming. The neighbors found me the next morning laying on my back porch, half frozen, nearly dead. They took me to the hospital and got me help. I was tossed in here not too long ago."

"I'm so sorry, Terra," Cas leaned over, his hand landing on hers'. "That shouldn't ever happen to a sweet, innocent little girl like you."

There was a small moment, then the door opened up again. The lady was talking, but froze when she saw us. I looked up sharply, Cas and Terra jumping with shock.

"Oh, Terra, I didn't know you were in here," the office woman held her hands in front of her professionally.

"She ran in here when she was about to be given the flu vaccine," I explained. "And I think Cas and I have made up our mind."

"Really?" Terra and the woman spoke in unison.

"Indeed," smiled Cas, taking Terra's hand again. "May we get the papers?"

"Oh," she hesitated, then finally blinked back into reality. "Of course. Give me a second."

She raced around the office, printing papers, grabbing two pens, then handing everything to us. I smiled, Terra still in my lap, and both Cas and I got to work on the paperwork. Once we were finished, a couple more things were done. Four hours later, Cas was holding Terra on his hip, and I was putting Terra's luggage into the trunk of the Impala. She was put in the backseat, and I slid into the front seat beside Cas. Cas took my hand into his, I smiled to him, and I started the engine and drove off.

When we came home, all hell was let loose.


	2. Chapter 2

_Twelve Years Later (Terra's POV)_

I slid into the driver seat of the pick up truck, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other clutching the key while I tried to bring the old truck to life. After three fails, I gave a loud curse, and opened up the door. I stepped out, put one knee on the floorboards, and took off a plate. I pulled out the red and yellow wire, cutting the soft plastic covers in a certain spot. I touched the frayed ends together, flinching as they sparked in my face. The engine roared, and I pressed on the gas pedal with my elbow. Sure enough, it revved. I smirked, tied the two wires together, and hopped back into the driver's seat. I shut the door, threw on my seat belt, and pulled out of the junkyard.

Raindrops started to splatter on the wind shield as I drove out of the large gates, and I let out a small breath before taking off down the highway. I knew that when I got home, if Dad heard what I did, they'd be hot pissed. They hated the fact I went out without them or Uncle Same or Uncle Bobby, so I knew they'd never let me out of their sight if they knew I just killed a werewolf and was now driving down the road. While I drove down the road, I mentally prepared myself for the worst grounding and longest lecture I'd have in my life. The rain came hardest while I made my way down the highway, but lightened as I came to the small neighborhood where Uncle Bobby's house was.

I parked the car a couple blocks past his house, left the truck on neutral, and shoved the truck finally into the ditch. It smashed into the grass underneath, and I dashed away while it did. I finally came up to Uncle Bobby's house porch, and I grabbed the sack of clothes hidden behind a bush. The windows were dark, so I quickly changed into a dry outfit. I straightened out my clothes, shook out my hair. My hair looked dry enough as it started to bunch into the usual curls. I finally opened up the door carefully, easy to not make it creak or anything, and I stepped inside. I slid the locks back into place and held my breath while I counted to nine. Just as I finished silently counting, the lights flicked on.

"Home so late?" simply asked Dad, his tone deep and angry.

I cursed under my breath to myself, slowly turning around. Dad sat on the old captain's chair, his green-brown eyes much like mine narrowed. He had on a plain black shirt and his plaid pajama pants on. He put his hands on his stomach, quiet as ever.

"I can explain," I tried to stay quiet and calm, but guilt was eating me out.

"I'd like to know only a few things," he stared at me sternly. "Where you were, how you got home, and why you smell like grown man's cologne."

"I was at first out on the town with Uncle Sam getting some stuff," I started honestly. "I went into a small shop while Uncle Sam went into the one beside mine. I somehow ended up being grabbed by a guy and thrown into a truck. He drove me to the junkyard and then we tussled for a little. That's the smell and where I was. Uh, I found the truck but he had turned it off and thrown the key. Couldn't find it so I hotwired the truck. I dropped it off in a ditch a few blocks away."

"You fought a werewolf?" Dad's voice went from a normal fatherly command to a shout, and he snapped up from his seat on the couch. "You drove a truck!?"

"Dad, calm down, please," I shrank against the door, gasping when it was rattled.

"Guys?" I heard Uncle Sam call.

I quickly unlocked the door and opened it up for the tall man. He stared from me to Dad in confusion.

"What's wrong?" Sam put his hand on my shoulder, moving inside.

"You left Terra alone?" Dad demanded, pointing at me, staring furiously at his younger brother. "You let her go into a store knowing a case was wide mother fucking open!"

"Dean?" Dad's groggy voice came from the hallway, and I looked up to see my blue-eyed father come stumbling with a half asleep Uncle Bobby behind him. "What's the matter?"

"Sam let Terra go into a store beside herself," Dad snapped angrily. "She got taken by a werewolf and ended up killing the thing in a junkyard! Got a truck and drove home on her own!"

"You know you could've just called me," Sam whispered worriedly in my ear.

"I dropped my phone in the shop when he first grabbed me," I whispered back.

"Are you hurt?" Dad rushed forward, his blue eyes looking me up and down while he did an overall check for any injuries.

"No, Dad, I'm fine," I sighed.

"You killed him, eh?" Bobby finally asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Good job, biscuit," Bobby gave me a smile, his red whiskery beard pulling up with it.

"Are you kidding me?" demanded Dad, whirling around on Bobby. "'Good job'? Seriously, Bobby?"

"She's sixteen now, Dean," Bobby frowned at Dad. "You can't keep her forever from getting into the action. And at least she fought back. She didn't have to. Think about it like this: she's better fighting off the damn things than letting them do whatever they wanted. Am I wrong?"

"Did he do anything to you?" Dad did another check over me, more urgently.

"Other than giving me the tossing and bruising of a lifetime," I sarcastically spat, swatting Dad away. "No. Nothing happened. He didn't . . . touch me. Or anything like that."

"Thank God," whispered Dad, pulling me forward into a large hug.

"Damn it, Sam, you're my brother," Dad suddenly swung around to Uncle Sam. "You and Bobby are the only other people I trust Terra with other than me and Cas. Now this happened, and I'm questioning her safety around you, Sam. That's sad."

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam shook his head, apologizing sincerely. "We needed to cover some ground and hurry up. It was the fastest route. I didn't think a were would be there."

"You should've though," Dad frowned.

"Perhaps you should give the girl some slack, Dean," Bobby frowned, walking from the kitchen into the room. "She killed the were, no? You use silver?"

"Straight from an old kitchen rack," I nodded. "Drove through his heart, and decapitated him to be safe."

"Good girl," Bobby smiled, nodding.

"Bobby!" Dad stared at the redneck. "Stop encouraging her!"

"She needs to be encouraged," grunted the old man, sitting down on the sofa.

"Bobby's right, Dead," Sam started. "You need to prepare her for-"

"No," Dad snapped. "I will not."

"Why?" I suddenly spoke up, finally tired of them talking about me in my presence.

"Because you're not ready," Dad answered sternly, staring at me. "You don't need to know.

"Says who?" I demanded. "I was out in public. Something grabbed me. What if it was a demon and I didn't know what to do? Alone or not, Dad, anything could've saw me and taken me or decided to follow me until it had a chance to get me. Why can't I know how to kill things? I'm sixteen, Dad. Soon I'll be seventeen. You can't keep treating me like I'm five still."

"I treat you that way because to me you're still a child and you don't need to know how to do that," he stared at the floor with anger.

"I'm not a chil-"

"You're still a child to me, enough of this!" Dad cut me off, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"No!" I shouted back, getting everyone's shock. "I'm sick of being put off to the side! I'm not going to be a kid forever! Why can't you understand that? Why can't you admit that I need to know things? I hate being left behind with Sam or Dad protecting me! You can't stop every demon in the world, Dad! One day that'll come to bite you in the ass when one of them finds interest in me. So much interest, that I won't be coming home again. How will you feel then? Knowing that I could be hurt or dead, and you could've helped to prevent it by teaching me how to use a mother fucking gun!"

"Shut up and go to your room!" he ordered, pointing down the hall, shaking with fury.

I didn't say anything else as I quickly strode past all of the men. I went to my bedroom door - it wasn't really my actual bedroom, just the room I used whenever we were at Bobby's place -, slammed it shut behind me, and sat on my bed. I ran my hands into my hairline and gripped tight, leaning over. A tear fell down my face, and I sat up sharply. I may have been the one to move around a bunch, but it didn't stop me from getting friends. Since this was one of our more regular towns, I knew some of the girls that lived around. I searched my room for my backup phone, found it, and texted one of them.

She replied with an answer that made me being to shake with excitement. I smirked and raced all around my room while I got ready. I turned out my light, locked my door, making seem like I was asleep. I turned on my soft Christmas lights, and did my makeup in the shadowy light. I ended up throwing on a loose white tank top shirt that sat above my secretly pierced belly button, the word "Soldier" printed big and bold. I threw on a green flannel with it, scrunched my hair so that it was more loosely curled. My eyes were highlighted with nude colored eye shadow. I put on a tattoo-design choker - it wasn't like an actual tattoo, but it was like a bunch of loops looped together so it looked really nice - that had a pretty crucifix hanging from it to be safe. I put on some simple torn blue jean shorts, knee-high socks, and my combat boots. I threw on some extra jewelry just so that it wasn't so plain.

Once I was finished, she texted me, and I put my phone in the pocket of my shorts. I silently slid up the frame of my window, slid out onto the outer ledge carefully. I glanced around, making sure that no one else was awake. The lights were on in the kitchen, but the living room was blacked out. Thankfully, the kitchen window was out of range for anyone to possibly see me. I shut the window but left it cracked to where I could easily slide it open again. I put my hands on the edge of the ledge, and carefully slid myself down the side of the rough wall. I held my breath, dropping to the ground. I rolled, trying to play it off. I waited a few seconds before crouching low as possible under the windows.

I crept my way around the house until I saw the car parked at the end of the street. I raced down the side of the street in the ditches, careful to not draw attention. I finally came to her car and smiled as she unlocked the door. I slid into the back, laughing with the other people in the vehicle. The girl was named Regina Morrison; she was a pretty Asian girl with almond black eyes, thicker but perfect eyebrows, bold red lips, and all of her light toffee brown dyed hair was pulled into a ponytail. She wore a lacy black top, glittering diamond jewelry, and a dangerous red leather skirt. Her legs were covered by fishnet stockings and tall heels. In the passenger seat was her best friend Tiffany Leon. Tiffany was an airhead blonde with brown eyes and freckles. Tonight Tiffany had on a pair of tight leather leggings, black Jordan shoes, and a blue jersey with 42 on the front and back in white and black numbers. Her flat blonde hair was down, her eyes lined with liquid liner like mine only hers was just on the top and winged out into a 'cat eye' effect.

In the back was two boys and another girl. I smiled to them, sitting down and shutting the door. We drove off, and Tiffany blared the radio as a rap song came on. Everyone started to sing and dance to the music, so I joined in by swaying my hips. One of the boys, a dark brunette with gray eyes, seemed to become hypnotized by it. I didn't pay much attention to the gray-eyed male. It was a drive through the town, past the shop where I was taken at, and I smirked as we came out to the outskirts of the small town. We pulled up to a large lake I had never noticed before. There was a few very spaced out lake houses dotting the rim of the lake, but one was lighted up and over flooding with teenagers.

We all piled out of the car, Regina locking the doors with her remote before tucking the key ring into her fancy studded handbag. We all walked towards the building, and inside we were blasted by dancing bodies, blaring music, flashing lights, and the stench of drugs and alcohol. Everyone sort of dispersed into the crowd. I couldn't find anyone suddenly. I made my way over to an empty table in the darker corner of the room and settled myself there. I wish suddenly that I had brought a jacket with me. It was utterly and astonishingly cold in the room. I let out a sigh, which became seeable before my face in a cold cloud. I tensed, knowing a ghost was around. I sharply looked around, trying to find the spirit. Nothing was out of the norm.

The only thing I really noticed was a guy swarmed by other people was staring directly at me. He was tall, six four maybe, with dark auburn hair, dark golden brown eyes, flawless olive skin, and a solid black outfit on. He wore some simple black and white joggers, black Jordan's like Tiffany's, with a black shirt, and a silver chain with a cross hanging from it. He stared at me for a moment longer with his gold eyes, then finally started my way. I turned away, trying to make it out as if I hadn't noticed him. He broke from the people trying to him, and strode up to me casually. He sat down in the chair across from me, sighing deeply.

"Hi there, stranger," he smirked, his arms crossing over the table.

"Hello," I nodded to him barely, not making eye contact just to make sure he wasn't anything supernatural.

"I'm Seth Oak," he held out his hand.

I shook it, his hand almost completely engulfing mine, "Theresa Winchester. I go by Terra."

"Terra," he repeated, crossing his arms back again. "I like it. Sweet. Short. Pretty."

"I suppose so," I shrugged.

"You're not much of a people person, are you?" he chuckled.

"Not really," I shrugged anxiously. "You?"

"Eh," he shrugged also. "I can be around them, but only for a little. This is my older brother's party. He's 'celebrating'-" he quoted in the air with his fingers, "-my seventeenth birthday."

"Lucky," I smirked. "You know what I got for my sixteen? A cupcake with a candle and a kiss on the forehead. That's it. I didn't get any presents cause I didn't want any, but still."

"You didn't have a sweet sixteen party?" he stared dead at me in shock.

"My family. . ." I tried to think of a description that didn't expose us, but it was impossible. "They're a bit . . . different from others, I'll tell you that much."

"How come?" he tilted his head, simply curious.

"Well," I had to force away a smile when I started to think about my family. "we travel all over a lot. I mean I've been to thirty different states already and I'm only sixteen. I was adopted, though. My parents: they're a gay couple. My Dad's, they're protective of me. The only other actual family I have is my Uncle Bobby and Uncle Sam."

"What job does your dad's do since you seem to travel so much?" he pressed.

I hesitated, trying to make up a lie. "They're mobile FBI agents."

"Wow," his eyebrows shot up. "That must be scary. For you, I mean. Like, don't you ever worry one day they won't come home?"

"Of course I do," I put my hands in my lap and stared at them. "I do every time. They know that one day they won't. Anytime they leave, they always tell me they'll be home for dinner. Cheesy as it is, it always makes me laugh."

"At least they don't admit that they might not," he offered.

"Yeah," I shrugged. "So, what about your folks?"

"Oh," he shook his head, blinking and smiling guiltily. "My dad ran out on me and my brother when I was seven. It's been Joe, Mom, and I against the world since then. Mom's a hardcore job worker. Never home much. When she is, she sleeps. We let her, too. I have three jobs, and Joe can only manage one for now. He's in Impact. He works hard, parties harder. That's the only problem. He drowns the fact he feels guilty about not being able to get another job to help in alcohol. He's working on getting into rehab. But it's hard to go to the classes due to school work and his job. I was planning on dropping out in my junior year."

"Don't drop out," I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his finally. "You'll ruin everything. You can't just drop out when you're so close to being finished."

"I have majority of my school points already," he shrugged. "I'll be graduate ready by the end of this year. How's your schoolings?"

"Uh," I smiled guiltily. "I'm kind of homeschooled. I'm a slight bit below the average of the normal sophomore, but I'm looking for a tutor."

"Wow," he nodded. "That's tough."

"I don't mind," I shrugged. "May be dumb, but I have enough street smarts to kick some ass." _Werewolf ass, vampire ass, ghost ass, but demon ass is a bit of a problem,_ I added mentally.

"You look like you could," he smiled, his face growing rosemary red.

"Thanks," I smirked, chuckling a little.

"You want to go chill in one of the empty rooms? It's getting a bit loud," he raised his voice over the booming music.

I simply nodded.


	3. Chapter 3

_(Terra POV)_

He stood up, and I followed him. When we started to get closer to the crowded stairs, he grabbed my hand. Some of the older boys noticed, but took it the wrong way clearly when they started to laugh and clap their hands on his shoulders. He smiled, going along with it. We squeezed down the hallways, and finally came to an empty room. He turned on the lights, revealing the room. I was impressed at the room; the walls were a faded blue, the floors a dark gray wood, a white and blue carpet in the middle. His bed was queen size, the bedspread a simple black, the sheets underneath a darker blue than the walls. There was a black desk with a laptop on it, a few other things, and a cute chibi glass figure.

There was a TV stand with some game consuls and game cases sitting neatly on the glass shelves. On the wall was a tall white shelf that looked like hollow box frames with no top or bottom sitting atop each other, stacked up with magazines and books and other things. There was a door that led to a bathroom obviously, and sliding doors to a closet. He had posters up on his walls of a college, some bands, and even a legalizing marijuana poster was hanging up. There was some bean bags sitting around, each black or navy blue. I nodded, looking around slowly. In a corner of the room was a drum set, speakers, and a bass guitar. I smiled. He sat on the computer chair, his dark eyes watching me as I slowly took in his room.

"Your room?" I simply asked.

"Yeah," he shrugged.

"Nice," I complimented, taking a seat gingerly on the long black box resting against the foot of the bed. "It looks homey."

"I guess so," he chuckled. "I spend most of my time in here. When I'm not working or at school, of course."

"Of course," I repeated, smirking a little.

"So, tell me about yourself," he leaned back in the chair and smiled at me.

"What do you want to know?" I giggled behind my question.

"Any hobbies?" he smirked.

"I read," I offered. "Surf the web a lot. I'm very much into history and myths."

"Really?" he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

"Yeah," I gave him a lopsided smile. "It's a bit of a family thing. My Uncle Bobby is into it, and my Uncle Sam enjoys the internet version of reading about it."

"I've never really thought about the past," he shrugged. "I like the idea of the future. What the possible outcomes of humanity could be. You know, the whole nine yards."

"Hmm," I smiled, glancing at the marijuana poster again. "You know, I've never tried weed."

"Seriously?" he stared from the poster to me in shock.

"Seriously," I smiled, nodding.

"You need to smoke," he jumped up, racing over to his closet. He pulled out a bong from the top, then went over to his desk. He grabbed some weed out of the glass chibi figure, taking off the head of course, then picking up a lighter from a glass cup that held some pens and pencils. He sat down, then froze. "Do you want to, I mean. I just realize how rude I was."

"I'd like to try," I answered honestly.

"Alright," he grinned, filling a small bowl (metal piece that was lit) with the green leaves.

When he finished, he moved over to one side of the bed. He stretched out to where he was sitting up against the headboard, his legs stretched out, one ankle crossed over the other. He patted the spot beside him, picking up his lighter. I nodded, went over to the door, locked it, then sat on the area beside him. I watched him light up the bowl, his mouth against the inhale tube, breathing in slowly. Sure enough, thick gray smoke came up the tube into his mouth. He pulled away, sucking in more air before exhaling. He smiled, then offered to me. I smiled, taking it gently. I mocked him, setting the bong bottom on my ankles due to the fact I was sitting Indian style, and I put my own lips against the glass opening. I breathed in the thick smoke.

I pulled away, passing back to him. I held it in for a moment, counting to three, then sucked in more air and exhaling. We kept up the same routine for hours, going back and forth lighting up the bowl and smoking the marijuana until the room was slightly fogged around us. He finally put the bong on the nightstand beside him while I leaned over, laughing for no reason. He smiled, his eyelids lowered involuntarily, the whites bright red. I sat up, wiped away a few tears that had came from my inner eyes. He laughed a deep chuckle, but cut off softly. His hand slid against my cheek, but I didn't fight him. He pulled me closer and kissed me gently.

I pressed back with my own lips. A minute or two later, we went from clean kissing to him exploring my mouth with his tongue, his body slowly moving over mine. I was pinned under him suddenly, but not in a bad way. His hands fluttered over my body while mine did the same. Soon enough, I was stripping off his shirt. He took off my jewelry for the most of it, then confiscated my shirts and bra. I was too high to care, though. I was actually enjoying it very much. We kept on making out for almost half an hour. I finally slid off my shoes and socks and shorts, leaving me bare except for my lacy underwear. He ran his fingers from my collar bone all the way down.

I shivered, slowly stripping him down into his brief shorts. I felt him smirk against our kissing, his hands teasing my panties down until they were at my knees. I finally took them off, exposing my entire body to him. Thankfully, I shaved in all my places this morning. He finally stripped off his own last piece of clothing, and the real fun started. It was a tussle of dominance in between the sheets which Seth had put over us. He managed to get me down, though. Hours went past before we both finally collapsed from exhaustion. We fell asleep side by side, me facing him, one of his arms tucked under his pillow, the other wrapped around my waist, our knees locked together, my head resting on his chest.

I finally woke up about two hours later, and I noticed the party had died down a bit. I slowly slid out of his bed, wrote down my number so he could contact me, and dressed myself. I left his room, searching for Regina. I found her holding up a shit-faced Tiffany. The brunette of the two boys we had arrived with were present, the other gone elsewhere. I came up just to hear why.

"-Yeah, Vic's ran off with some other girl an hour ago," said the brunette.

"Good to know," Regina nodded. "Thanks, Tyler. Let's head out of here. Where's Terra?"

"Right here," I announced, standing a foot from Tiffany who wasn't very. . there. She was spaced out bad. "Ready to go? I'll drive if you want?"

"No," Regina shook her head. "I stayed sober. Tiff's gone. Tyler here had a couple drinks. I'm sure you did too."

"I actually didn't," I shook my head. "I didn't drink anything."

"O-okay," she shrugged. "Let's go then. I'll drive, though."

We all left the lake house, and I was positive I had left unnoticed. Even though I had been gone for four, five hours tops. She pulled up at the end of my street, I kissed her cheek as a show of gratitude, and left. I raced down the street, climbed up the wall, and slid up my window slowly. I slid inside gingerly, thankful to find that it was empty. No Dads. I smiled, sighing with relief. I shut my window all the way, took off my clothes. I put on a large sweatshirt, my knee high socks, and quickly took off all my makeup. I threw my hair in a messy bun, jumping with shock as the door opened up. Uncle Sam stepped inside my room, his brown eyes on me.

"Hey, kid," he greeted me gently.

"Hi, Uncle Sam," I swallowed nervously, quickly trying to think up a lie.

"What are you doing up so late?" he questioned.

"Nightmare," I blurted the fib.

"You went out and partied, didn't you?" he sighed deeply, shutting the door.

"Why do you think I'd go out and party-" I tried to aid up my fib, but he cut me off.

"I know when you're lying," he simply cut me off. "You know how mad Dean will be?"

"You're going to tell him?" I swallowed a little nervously.

"Not if you promise me that you didn't drink," he stared at me with worry.

"I swear I didn't," I honestly swore.

"Good girl," he smiled, staring me up and down. His expression changed. "What all did you do?"

"Uh," I hesitated.

"You can tell me," he softly spoke to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "But don't try and give me some b.s. I want the truth. All of it."

"I smoked a little weed," I admitted, staring down with shame. "And. . . I, uh-"

"What is it?" he pressed with worry in his voice.

"I had sex with a guy. . ." I finally forced out, the words soft and quiet to even me.

"Oh, God," Sam froze. "No. Terra, please tell me you're just messing with me. Please."

"I can't," I whispered.

"You gave up your virginity just like that, Terra?" he put his knuckle under my chin and forced my eyes to meet his. "Why?"

"I didn't think about it," I was honest. "It just . . . happened. I don't know how or why, but it went from him and I talking to smoking to him stripping me of my clothes."

"So it was technically rape?" Sam's eyes held a little shimmer of hope.

"No," I gulped. "It was willing. I let him."

"Okay," he lowered his head, nodding slowly. "It's fine. It was going to happen one way or another. I can't say anything, really. I've slept with a few woman myself."

"Yeah," I shrugged. "I'm so sorry, Uncle Sam. I gave up my dignity to a stranger."

"It's fine, Terra," he hugged me tight. "Don't sleep with anyone again until you're eighteen, okay? Just so Dean doesn't find out or flip completely."

"Okay," I promised into his shirt.

"Good," he smiled. "Go to bed. I was just in the kitchen with Dean. If he asks, tell him you woke up from a nightmare and ran into me going to the bathroom, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded, pulling away. "Thank you, Sam."

He nodded, smiling, then left my room. Once he left the hallway, I fell onto my bed. I put my hands on my face, groaning aloud into the quiet air. I crawled into my bed covers, cuddled down, and fell asleep quickly.

* * *

 _(Dean POV)_

I walked from the kitchen into the living room where Bobby was struggling with the TV remote, and Sam was laying out on his couch, his hands flying across his laptop keyboard. I sighed deeply, striding down the hallway where the door to the guest room was, and where Cas had run off to. Me and Cas had been married since Terra was five. Eleven whole years. Still together. I was shocked. A few times we had a throw out, but we made up each time. I opened up the door to our temporary room to see Cas' figure laying down in the bed. I sighed again, walking over to the large bed.

I laid down beside Cas, pulling the covers over the both of us. I settled down, and Cas rolled over. I huffed out a sharp breath and let him curl up against me. I wrapped my arms around him while he buried his face in my neck. I ran my hands up his shirt, feeling the beautiful scars of his past life, loving every single flaw.

"You were very rude to Terra, Dean," Castiel said after a moment.

"Don't start, Cas," I sighed deeply, groaning as I ran a hand over my face.

"You can't protect her forever," he kept on. "She's going to get hurt one day. You need to make it to where she has a fighting chance against whatever tries to get her. Please, Dean. If you're not going to teach her, I'll get Sam to."

"Excuse?" I tensed angrily.

"You heard me," he pulled away, his blue eyes glowing almost in the dim darkness. "You do it, or Sam will. She needs to learn one way or another, Dean. Make it easier on everyone and let it happen already. You have to let go. She's not that little orphan girl that's scared of needles anymore. She's a feisty teenager with a bright smile. Our feisty teenager with a bright smile. She's our daughter. Treat her like she's really a part of this family."

"I do treat her like she's family. I know she's my daughter. Cas, are you trying to tell-"

"I'm trying to tell you, you need to let her go on the next hunt. Teach her. I'm sick of this. She's restless. You know for a fact that if she's not doing something and we're not looking, she'll purposefully get herself into trouble. Remember two years ago?" he glared at me.

I shuddered at his question. We had been out on the hunt for a nest of demons attacking a bus station. Apparently while Bobby was yelling at us over the phone, she had snuck out. A demon had kidnapped her. Everyone went out on a mad hunt for her. Sam found Terra in an old hunter's cabin, the demon apparently pressing her up to the wall, touching her. I had gotten there, made sure the demon was alive still, and did the worst thing I had ever done. I tore him to shreds with my own bare hands, Cas holding her outside while the demon screamed inside.

"You need to go upstairs, apologize, tell her why you don't want her to train, then set up a time for tomorrow before we all leave to teach her to at least fire a gun. She might not know exactly what to use against a demon, but if she knew how to shoot, she'd at least have a good chance against them. I'm serious, Dean," he rolled over, turning his back to me again.

I stared at the back of his head in amazed shock. "Well, who died and made you God?"

I groaned as his fist collided with my thigh, dead-legging me. I grabbed my stinging leg, leaning forward a little, my head resting on his side. I waited until my leg was back intact before frowning, poking his side a little. He made a high pitched sound, jumping forward so far he went off the bed. He sat on the ground, turning his head around to glare at me so dark it gave me goosebumps. I smirked, gave him an air kiss, and ran out of the room before he could get up. I hurried up the stairs, aiding my husband's command. Ever since Terra was thirteen and first witnessed a demon, she wanted to learn to hunt. I refused her for two years. Should I? I didn't want her to get hurt. I didn't want her to see people die. I didn't want her to have blood on her own hands. . . I didn't want her to grow up.

I came to her door, sighed deeply, and ran a hand through my short hair. I opened up the door slowly to see her small body snuggled up in the black duvet Sam had been generous to buy her. I sat down on the foot of her bed, gently tickling her small foot outline. She jerked inwards, jumping awake. Just like Cas. The thought made me smile.

"I'm still mad at you," she frowned, her face serious and cold.

"I know," I nodded slowly, staring down at my hands. "I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have blew up like that. I'm sorry, Terra. I don't want you to live the life of a Hunter because I don't want you to be miserable. On the road all the time, watching people you know and don't know die, killing a couple of them. It's too much. I was really young when I was dragged down into this. I don't want you to be like me. I want you to be a happy, wild, free teenager for as long as you can. You don't _have_ to be a part of any of this, you know. You can always go to school, make friends, get a job, have a normal life?"

"I don't want a normal life," she whispered, her eyes softening at the edges. "I like the thrill I see every time you come home and declare you completed the case or found out a big clue. I love the energy and traveling. No one else that I've met has been to over four states. Dad, I'd never be miserable going around and doing jobs. If anything, I'd actually enjoy doing it and being able to come home, worn to the bone, just so I can get some actual sleep. Sleeping now is nothing. Too much sleep. I can't stand being left behind just to see you and Dad or Sam come home and sit down on the couch tired as ever. _I don't want a normal life, Dad._ I want to be a _Hunter._ "

"Then you have to be ready. You have to know that everyone you'll meet will either get hurt or die. You have to know you, too, will be hurt or nearly killed. You'll be going up against things that know how to trick your mind, how to control you, and how to get under your skin. I want you to tell me that you're ready," I stared into her baby blue eyes.

"I'm ready to see everyone I love die," she swore honestly. "I'm ready to die. I'm ready to kill. I'm ready to witness my worst nightmares. I'm ready to give it all up."

"Good girl," I smiled, leaning forward and tucking a baby hair behind her ear. "Tomorrow morning, as soon as you wake up, but on just a shirt and pants. Don't forget your jacket and boots, though."

"Why?" she blinked in confusion as I stood up and walked towards the door.

I smiled, opened up the door, and looked back at her. "Because you finally get to use a gun," and I left the room without another word.

As I shut the door, I heard her start to squeal. I smiled, laughing. That was my girl. I walked back down the stairs into the room again. Cas was sitting up on the bed, arms crossed, one eyebrow cocking upwards as I stepped inside and shut the door. I smiled in the shadows, running up to the bed, jumping up and leaning my body over his. I pressed my lips to his, giving him a surprised kiss. When I pulled away, he was a different color of bright pink.

"Well?" he demanded, clearly trying to act like he was mad, but failing miserably.

"I'll be getting up early so that we can go to the range," I smiled, kissing him again.


	4. Chapter 4

_(Terra's POV)_

Loud buzzes ripped through my light slumber, triggering every nerve fully alert with frightened shock, and causing me to fly upwards on my bed. I inhaled deeply as pure adrenaline intensified each ounce of flowing blood inside my veins. Sweeping my gaze quickly over my bedroom, I had to do a doubletake at a dark corner tucked beside the door.

The shadows were thicker than normal, to the point of looking almost completely black, and an illusion of smoky edges adding to the strangeness. I blinked hard three times to clear any blurs from resting. Looking back at the corner, there was nothing out of the usual.

Sighing deeply, I shook off the uncanny thoughts. I stood up and moved to the middle of my bedroom to begin the morning routine Dad and I made together when I was eleven. Starting off my stretching out my muscles, I pulled out my small nightstand table and chest that sat at the foot of my bed.

Doing a couple flexibility maneuvers that I learned in the gymnastic and tumbling classes I took as a child, I felt my body become loose and awake from the routine. I finally moved both my calves onto the top of my equal heighted nightstand and chest. Sliding downwards, I landed into a perfectly straight horizontal splits.

I exhaled a breath and sunk down even further so that my body went past a straight split. Resting both my elbows on the ground, I opened the bottom drawer on my nightstand and pulled out a book randomly from the countless I had stuck in there over time. Opening up _Beautiful Creatures_ by Kami Garcia and Margaret Stohl, I started to read the book from the first chapter (even though I've read them all).

As I was getting to the fourteenth chapter, the door to my room was flung open by a smiling Uncle Sam. His eyes landed on me in my unusual pose and a scream tore from his throat. Moments later, Uncle Bobby, Dad and Dad all came stumbling down the hallway upon hearing my Uncle.

"Oh my God, Terra!" screeched my Dad, his blue eyes and tan flesh paling drastically in horror.

"Hey," I greeted them rather casually and moved my eyes back down to my book.

"I think I'm going to puke," gagged Uncle Sam before rushing out past the other grown men.

Uncle Bobby held his shotgun in one hand, the other rubbing on the back of his neck uncomfortably, and eyes trailing over his boots.

"Uh," Dad cleared his throat, causing me to sit up and look at him expectantly. Noticing my change in posture, his mouth pulled into a grim line. "Go ahead and get dressed. We're gonna be leaving in an hour at the latest."

"What should I wear?" I asked him curiously, pushing myself up with my hands back into a regular split.

"Something simple and sophisticated," Dad quickly said, and left my room with his hand on Dad's lower back.

Uncle Bobby shut my bedroom door. I laughed at their reactions to my strange flexibility, and got up to my feet easily. I marked my place in my book, moved my nightstand and chest back into their places, and went over to my vanity.

Sitting down, I started to put on makeup to cover the small blemishes of my face and upper chest. Going for a dark but natural look, I did a smoky black and dark brown eyeshadow, slight blush and shimmering highlight on the highs of both defined cheekbones, and a wine red lipstick coated over by a shiny lip gloss.

I released my hair from the bun that hung at the nape of my neck now, and picked up a brush to tackle the wild beast I called my hair. It took me at least ten minutes before my curls ran smooth between the teeth of my hairbrush. Plugging in my curling iron, I separated my hair into three main parts and clipped the top two layers out of my way.

Wrapping pieces of my frizzy hair, I spent the next twenty five minutes creating lush bouncing waves out of the nest I normally had on my scalp. Finished with my hair and makeup, I rummaged through my dresser and closet for a nice outfit. I stripped out of my pajamas and picked out a tight fitting t-shirt dress from Forever 21.

The dress hugged every curve just right, my cleavage slightly shown by the low neckline, sleeves reaching down a little past my wrists, and the dress ending at the middle of my thighs. I nodded to myself in approval, and pulled on my new round toed wedges with a crossing ankle strap. Silver hoop earrings, a silver chain necklace holding up pentagram just above the crease of my breasts, three rings on my right hand, two rings on my left hand, a silver bracelet cuff on my right wrist underneath my dress sleeve, my anklet that Uncle Bobby had made himself for my fifteenth birthday, and my typical crescent moon necklace was added to my outfit so that I didn't look as plain.

Dressed for the day, I exited my bedroom and walked down the stairs casually. When I turned around the bend of the final step into the living room, I heard a gasp. I met the eyes of Dad, who was standing by Uncle Sam; both of them were staring at me in complete astonishment.

"What?" I asked innocently, looking down at my outfit. "Is something wrong?"

"You look. . . Wow," exhaled Sam with a small laugh in his voice.

"Terra, you look so grown up," Dad gave me a watery smile, before swallowing me up in a warm hug that I always loved.

I smiled back, and returned his embrace.

"You're so beautiful. I can't believe how much you've grown and matured," he laughed with tears in his eyes, pulling back just enough to clock my face.

I blushed slightly at his praises, and flashed a meek smile back at my Dad.

"What are you wearing?" suddenly demanded Dad, coming down the hallway from his bedroom, eyes highlighted by the black business suit he wore, causing the flames in both the emerald orbs to look even more terrifying.


	5. Chapter 5

_(Terra's POV)_

I hesitated in fright at how intimidating Dad looked as he stepped up to me and Dad, who was still hugging me slightly. His eyebrows were creased together, jaw muscles clenched, lips pressed together, and arms folding over his broad chest. Tension exploded in the atmosphere of the living room and weighed heavily on everyone in the location.

"Dean," begun Dad, frowning slightly at his husband.

"No, I asked Terra a question," he cut the man off sharply, still drilling into my skull with his gaze.

"I-I wore something simple and sophisticated," I stammered at first, but managed the answer upon registering how Dad just talked to Dad. "Like you told me this morning. Is there an issue?"

Uncle Sam had to cover his sudden snicker with an awkward cough. Dad ricocheted backwards as if I had just shoved him. Both my parents wore masks of complete disbelief at the sass I gave to my parent.

"Yes, there is an issue!" Dad collected himself and narrowed his eyes at me. "That dress is _way_ too short, young lady."

"I have at least four other dresses that are shorter than this," I remarked, holding my hands down by my sides, showing the two inches that reached beyond my fingertips.

"Dean, she looks fine, leave her alone," Uncle Bobby scolded my father, grunting as he sat down on his plaid couch and sipped from his beer bottle.

"I don't think so," he protested. "Go change, and we can leave."

I felt a large surge of rebelliousness rise inside, "No. I'm not going to change my entire outfit all because you think my dress is too short. My dress is just fine, Dad. If you don't like it: tough."

That was a cannon ball. Everyone gaped at me, moving back a foot from me, and their jaws nearly touching the floor. I stared determinedly at my father, and rested both hands on my hips firmly.

"I-" Dad ground his teeth together angrily, turning his head to stare daggers at the wall, and huffed shortly after a few moments. "Fine. Let's go."

I smirked in victory.

Following Dad to the front door, he grabbed my jacket off the coat rack, and held it as I slipped both my arms into the sleeves. I waved to the three other men staying at the house, said a quick 'bye and love you' over my shoulder, and hurried behind Dad out the door. We climbed into the Impala and buckled my seat belt as Dad drove off down the road.

The only sounds in the truck was the running ac, rumbling of the engine, and Nirvana playing from the radio.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I spoke first. "For snapping at you and giving you an attitude. It was wrong of me, I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, Terra. I shouldn't have thrown a fit about your dress," he smiled over at me for a second, and clasped my hand in his larger one. "You look gorgeous no matter what you wear, and that scares me. You're my little girl, I don't want to let you go just yet. I don't want to admit that you're growing up and not that little four year old at the orphanage who was scared of needles."

"Aw, Dad," I grinned sweetly, my cheeks raising highly, and moving my eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," he scrunched his face even though I could see the playfulness shimmering among the swirls of emerald and amber.

"You're such a softy~" I sang, teasing my Dad even more.

We both started to laugh at each other. Now sitting in a comfortable quiet rather than an anxious one, a small smile remained the rest of the drive remained on my face. Soon enough Dad parked the Impala on a dirt and gravel trail leading to an open space inside some woodlands.

I stepped out of the Impala, taking in every aspect of the place, and immediately falling in love with each tiny thing that was before me. The clearing was in a circular shape, tree stumps sticking up from the ground where someone chopped them down, enough trees still standing to keep the place well hidden from public or outsiders, rays of early sunlight falling between the gaps of the hovering treetops, and a large boulder that didn't appear natural to the setting. Breathing in, I smelt morning dew freshening the lush grass and leaves and plants, sweet pollen of rose bushes and another bush bearing Lily of the Valley blossoms.

"Are you just gonna stare all day, or are we gonna get down to business?" Dad called to me from the trunk of the Impala upon noticing the trance I was under.

I ripped myself from the view and walked over to Dad. He lifted up the door of the trunk, then showed me a small black metal loop handle connected to the floorboard I wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't grabbed it. Pulling up the handle, the floor lifted to reveal the trap door it was.

Holding it up while he picked up the standing pole to keep the second door up, I felt my lips part at the sight below. Guns, knives, swords, and all kinds of different weapons neatly placed along the floor and underside of the door winked up at me underneath the light catching on the metal. A certain blade placed in the center of the floor caught my eye and seemed to beacon to me.

Gently trailing my fingers over the weapon, I felt the smooth silver hilt up the nearly white narrowing blade until my fingertip reached the point of the end.

"Now, let's start with lesson one," Dad said. I flickered my gaze from the blade to my father. He pointed at a gun strapped to the top. "Learning weapons by their name. Ready?"

I stared longingly at the knife, then smiled as I nodded to my Dad.


	6. Chapter 6

_(Dean's POV)_

By nine o'clock in the morning, Terra was effortlessly moving along the rows of the weapons and calling out their names, traits, and uses. All b.s. aside, I was highly impressed at how much she learned in such short time. I peeked at my watch, and saw that we had been here for only forty minutes.

"Alright, we have two hours until the police station opens up," I spoke after she finished naming off the final weapon on the bottom part of the trunk. "Sam should have your fake ID and the details ready before then. Time for lesson two."

She quirked an eyebrow at me curiously, her eyes glittering with anticipation and excitement. I smirked at my daughter, and picked up two Springfield XD .45's from the trunk. Giving her one of the handguns, I sat down with her on two stubs close together just beside the Impala.

"One of the biggest mistakes people make is learning how to shoot a gun, but nothing else about them. They regret that when someone is able to break their gun. So I'm going to show you the parts of these guns, tell you what their for, take it apart, then put it back together." I explained to Terra, who nodded as she focused completely on me. "One step at a time, though. Okay?"

"Alright," she responded with the tilt of her head to show her concentration.

For the next ten to fifteen minutes, I showed her how to take apart the gun and every part of the weapon and how to put it back together and how to disarm a gun. Before I knew it, Terra was taking apart her gun and putting it back together faster than I was. I fought down a smug grin when an idea popped into my head.

"Wait," I spoke up, causing Terra to meet my eyes. "We have to test it and see if the gun functions."

"Oh," her eyes widened with realization.

I took the gun from her hand, and placed an old paper coffee cup on top of a tree stump a few yards away. Standing in the middle of the field, I glanced at Terra who was leaning slightly on the hood of the Impala. Aiming at the cup, I took off the safety and fired the gun.

The gunshot ringing through my ears and brain, I saw the cup fly off the stump. I smiled in pride at my daughter's successful ability to take apart a gun and correctly put it back together. _Faster than a skilled Hunter, too,_ my brain nagged at me.

I motioned her over to me, and watched as my daughter put the last few parts of the gun I was working with previously together. She strode confidently over to me and stood at my side. Putting my gun in the pocket of my slacks, I set up another old cup on the same stump for her to shoot at.

Beside her once again, Terra took in a deep breath before holding up the gun with both hands aiming for the cup. I stepped up to her and adjusted the very few mistakes in her stance. Now just behind her left shoulder, I studied how her shoulder blades tensed then relaxed as she pulled the trigger.

The bang echoed through the field, rattling some nearby birds, and almost masked the sound of the cup flying off the stump. I smiled slightly and placed a hand on her shoulder. She lowered the gun, turned to look up at me, and showed a little bit of her white teeth as she beamed.

"After you shoot a few more things, then we can start on hand-to-hand combat," I told her.

"For all this practicing, I would've packed this outfit and put on some shorts and a t-shirt," the comment made me fight down a snicker.

"You won't have a t-shirt and shorts if you're out on a job and get randomly attacked by something," touching her nose, I smirked when both her hazel eyes narrowed at me.

* * *

 _(Terra's POV)_

Wielding a thick silver machete, I held up my armed hand as Dad swung down at me with his own machete. Sparks flew when the two metals clashed against each other. I pressed my feet hard into the ground to fight against his force nearly pushing me backwards.

I saw that he had left his legs vulnerable. Keeping to myself, I met his gaze again as he grinned wickedly and shifted so his legs were in an even worse position than before. I dropped to the ground, landing on my palms, and swiped out one foot which knocked both his ankles from underneath him.

Dad let out a small cry as he tumbled to the grass. I flipped backwards, and landed on both feet. Posed in a low crouch, I listened tensely around me for any movements and kept my eyes centered on my father as he groaned lowly.

"Damn, Terra, that was good," he praised me though it came out between grunts of pain. "Calm down, warrior. We're not really fighting."

Blinking a few times, I realized how zoned into the combat I had became. My muscles went soft as I straightened up into my normal stand, and chuckled softly at Dad while offering him a hand. He clasped his hand around mine, which I grip back so that he didn't end up slipping, and breathed out a grunt as I hoisted the much larger and heavier man to his feet.

"Alright, I think it's time to call this a wrap," he huffed, moving back his jacket sleeve to look at the wristwatch on his arm. "We have only fifty minutes to get to the police station."

"Then what are we doing standing around here?" I smarted with a smug one-sided smile.

We quickly packed up all the weapons, and I involuntarily hesitated when my eyes caught the sight of that white blade. Dad took down the pole, his hand holding up the top of the trap door, and grabbed the blade from the belt locking it against the floor of the hidden compartment. He held it out to me by the blade.

"Seriously?" I gasped, eyes wide with excitement.

He smiled softly and nodded. I took the blade, feeling the weight balance almost perfectly in my small hand, and tested out the performance by swiping at the air. My cheeks almost hurt from how wide my smile was.

I hugged my Dad, the older man immediately returning my embrace, and pulled back still giddy with joy. He dug through one corner of the underside compartment and pulled out a garter and sheath. Handing me the leather strap, I went to the passenger side of the Impala.

Sitting in my seat, I tightened the straps to fit correctly on my upper left thigh. I stuck the blade in the sheath and pulled down my skirt to see that it hid the weapon perfectly. Dad got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

We drove back to Uncle Bobby's house where I grabbed my white thermal cup, filled it up with black coffee to go, and stood beside the couch where Uncle Sam and Uncle Bobby sat. Books, papers, journals, and Uncle Sam's laptop completely swallowed where the wooden coffee table once was. Uncle Sam spoke to Dad, his words increasing in speed and his enthusiastic tone growing as he explained further.

I couldn't help the smile that curled up my face watching my giant Uncle appear like a little boy talking about his favorite car. I sat on the arm of the couch, and saw the spine of a leather book. Curious, I multi-tasked between grabbing the book and listening to Uncle Sam.

Opening up the book, I saw that it was a book written in mixed dialects of the same ancient language. One that I had practiced enough to where I could easily translate the script into English. (Though the English was choppy, I was able to easily fill in the missing words and find the correct meaning.)

I closed the book, and held it in my lap while Uncle Bobby finished explaining what him and Sam had come to conclude about the mysterious murders. Uncle Sam pulled out a small leather wallet, and opened it up to show off the F.B.I. badge and brand new fake ID marked with my picture.


	7. Chapter 7

_(Terra's POV)_

At the police station, Dad and I walked beside the Sheriff of the town and listened keenly while he spoke about the unsolved murder case. I held a small notepad in my hand, jotting down notes in my thick cursive script, the navy blue ink filling up the white paper. Dad was sending every male that turned to check me out a sharp glare.

I heard the Sheriff mention the name 'Nicholas Oak' in his list of witnesses and victims. I perked up my head, now deeply intrigued.

"Nicholas Oak was a witness to the last female, a girl with black hair and brown eyes," Sheriff Chandler spoke simply, his voice slightly cracked with age. "The murderer seemed to go after the same type of victims."

"The relations?" I asked, catching the man's crystal blue eyes.

He gave me a grim look after scanning over my face and hair, "Teenage to young adult females with brown or green eyes and black curly hair."

I stumbled a little in shock. Freezing, I saw Dad go rigid before looking down at me. I met his gaze for a few moments.

"Alright, thank you Sheriff Chandler for your time and cooperation," Dad put his hand on my shoulder and turned us around towards the exit.

We walked out, a pace faster than before, and nearly broke into a run for the Impala. Climbing quickly into the vehicle, Dad was still running around the front when a hand clamped over my mouth. I screamed into the palm with fright, quickly ripping out the blade hidden under my skirt still, and yelped again (even though the hand muffled it) as a second hand gripped my wrist.

"Terra!" Dad screamed moving to lunge at the intruder, then halting when a blade pressed to my throat. "Are you fucking serious, Crowley? Let her go!"

"She was going to try and kill me with an Angel Blade," a British accented male simply responded from behind my seat.

The hands released me, allowing me to scoot a foot forward on the seat. I whirled around to see an older male sitting calmly in the back seat of the Impala. He wore a black and red expensive looking suit, the blade he had pressed to my throat twirling around between his fingers, and dark eyes trained on me still with something toxic spinning around in their depths.

Tightening my jaw in anger, I quickly left hooked the man in the jaw.

"Son of a bitch!" he shouted in pain and surprise, holding his lip that I busted open. "That's one Hell of a punch you got, Doll-Face."

"Fuck you," I spat like venom at the man, then turned to look at Dad who was finally in the seat. "Who's he?"

"I'm Crowley, love, the King of Hell," he answered for Dad.

"A, b conversation," I growled at him giving him a death stare. "So c your way out of it, before I jump over this front seat and beat the Hell out of you."

The man chuckled and looked at Dad, "I like her. Which bar did you pick her up at?"

"Excuse you!" screamed Dad just as I punched the man once again, causing blood to pour from his nose.

"Damn it," he hollered in annoyance.

"What do you want, Crowley?" snapped Dad, cranking the engine and taking off down the road.

"Can't stop in to visit an old friend?"

"You're not a friend."

I snickered.

"Ouch," muttered the demon. "But fine, I want you to do a job for me."

"Another one of your little Alpha missions?" shouted Dad furiously.

"Yes, of course," Crowley answered in a hostile tone.

"Another?" I questioned, looking at Dad curiously.

He ignored me, a flash of guilt taking over his expression. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. Crowley spoke up again, and making me rather annoyed by his presence.

"This particular Alpha is in fact the reason why you're stuck with a case. He's got a grudge against me and is having just a ball going on a spree. This Alpha is trying to kill someone very dear to me, but he doesn't know who exactly she is-"

"She?" I immediately cut the man off, staring at him over my shoulder.

Crowley's eyes clocked my expression, the look in them making me feel as if he was drinking up every little detail, and branding it into his mind. "Yes, she," his voice held an undertone of soft longing.

"Who?" I pressed, unable to control the question.

"That's not for you to worry about," he answered, emotions hidden beneath a sheet of frost and tar. "All you need to know is the Alpha likes young girls with black hair and pretty eyes."

"Like Terra?" Dad peeked at the demon through the dashboard mirror.

"Yes, exactly like Terra," he spoke my name slowly, rolling the syllables over his tongue.

Dad jerked the Impala over to the side of the road, right in front of Bobby's house, and spun around so fast I swore he had whiplash. "I will not use my daughter as bait all so you can stop someone who has a bone to pick with you!" he shouted furiously.

"Your daughter?" Crowley repeated, flicking his gaze between me and Dad. A smirk curled up his face. "How interesting."

"Don't even think about it, you filthy piece of damned scum," I hissed dangerously at Crowley.

"If you don't get me this Alpha, I promise, you will regret it," Crowley ignored my statement and turned to look up at Dad.

"Or what?" he challenged.

"Or I'll take your daughter and make her my personal maid down in Hell."

With that, the King of Hell vanished in a cloud of black smoke.


End file.
